Laura Ingalls Wilder at 150…

Today, 7 February 2017, is Laura Ingalls Wilder’s 150th birthday, and celebrations are happening all year. My love for this iconic, and, at times enigmatic, figure is deep and complex and not something I’m very good at expressing in ways that make sense to most non-LIW fans out there. But my people know. The fans, the scholars, the literary critics, the educators, the historians–oh, especially my fellow historians, YOU get it–these people understand what those who have little if any familiarity with our Flutterbudget do not. And that’s fine.

But today is a big deal. 150 years since Caroline Lake (Quiner) Ingalls brought forth her second child in a tiny cabin in Pepin, Wisconsin. This humble birth began what is now the worldwide phenomenon of Laura Elizabeth Ingalls Wilder, who is the embodiment of that great myth of the person of obscurity, rising from what seems to be the most mundane and ordinary of beginnings, passing a childhood and youth (and, in Laura’s case, much of her adulthood, too) riddled with struggle and misfortune, only to persevere, excel and become wildly successful against the odds. In Laura’s case, she did it as a relatively poor woman with relatively little education and relatively little opportunity all while at a relatively advanced age.

Gives a person a lot to think about.

I’m enjoying seeing how far her reach has influenced others and how many people come up with innovative observations. I dare say I have little in the way of innovation and this tomboy with ten thumbs doesn’t craft, so the best you’ll get from me is a pan of gingerbread with chocolate frosting. Maybe.

Meanwhile, the snarky part of me can’t wait to see how many bloggers and journalists will misattribute tv show dialogue to her wisdom* and, more importantly, how many people are really, REALLY confused by all of this information because they thought the show was documentary** and/or in current production.

In any case, I have LIW to thank for inspiring my adoration of history, research, museums, Dakota roadtrips, ancient cemeteries, abandoned homesteads, antique schoolbooks, and rag dolls with hand-drawn faces. Not to mention corseted karaoke with a diverse selection of like-minded Laurati. So, hats off to Laura!  (And bottoms up, if you’re inclined.) I’d love to hear how you’re celebrating Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Sesquicentennial in your life, whether today, this week, this year, or on whatever timeline suits you!

*I’m looking at you, Anyone Considering the use of “Home is the Nicest Word There Is” in your thinkpiece. Seriously, People. Laura never, ever, said that. Not once. She didn’t write it either. It’s scripted dialogue from tv, written almost two decades after she died. Say it with me: “Laura. Never. Said. That.”

**Trust me. It happens. At least once, at almost every public program I present. 😉

Once more, with feeling: #LauraNeverSaidThat

#IPromise

The “new” ROOTS: Historical Fiction Done Right. 

Old Sturbridge Village, in their Facebook feed today, asked guests for their impressions of the new ROOTS. I’ve been watching it closely this week and comparing to both the novel (all 899 pages of it!) and the original 1977 tv “event.” I have vague recollections of the original playing on our console tv in the living room; as an adult I read the book several years ago and have watched the 1977 miniseries in parts, but not recently. So the prospect of a new production piqued my interest, and this week I am making a rare point of scheduling tv time specifically to view it uninterrupted.

“Your name is your spirit; your name is your shield.” Screen shot from my initial viewing . Melanie C. Stringer photo.


 It’s an emotional journey to watch the horrors of slavery in such vivid detail at any time, and despite years of study in American history and reading numerous well-documented scholary works devoted to the enslaved people who built much of what became America, it never gets easier. And never ceases to hold my attention.

Here are some of my preliminary thoughts, albeit in rough form, halfway through the series. I’ll be updating this post later in the week, when I’ve had a chance to take in the entire production. (Episode Three airs tonight): 

My initial reaction? It’s quite good, and clearly reflects four more decades of scholarship. That’s key, and makes me very happy. I went into the first viewing not knowing what to expect nor having any insider information about the production aside from the tidbit that LeVar Burton was co-producer. A good sign, but no guarantee. 

First, the violence is graphic and unflinching and it accurately reflects much of what I have read in primary sources for decades. The on-screen warning about the content, strangely, emphasizes the “language of the time” and mentions violence secondarily, as if to acknowledge that today’s audiences are far more offended by hate speech than by senseless brutality…perhaps because, in 2016, we often are. I couldn’t help noticing that the voiceover reading the warning pauses before completing the statement with, “…and violence,” as if a mere afterthought. I was glad to see, however, that the warning was revised for Episode Two to include “sexual violence,” likely due to the fact that rape, while implied in the first installment, is more blatantly illustrated in the second part. The brutality of slavery is inescapable and authentically delivered. Even those who direct their own employees–the actual perpetrators of the most direct violence–sometimes wince at the execution of their own directives, almost stunned at ruthlessness, and that seems deliberately telling. Male characters are at times shown reacting with visceral, uncontrolled shudders and cries, and are protective of the women who, it must be said, are often–but not always–portrayed as stoic by comparison.

The story still feels extremely male-centric, but that is unavoidable given the source novel’s content. The 2016 version is, however, more inclusive of women’s experiences than the 1977 version. Women, such as those on the ship during the horrific middle passage, play key roles in attempting escape and make their own decisions when given the opportunity. However, the women portrayed are not generally prone to behaving in ways that society of those times and places would squelch, and still tend to publicly defer to men as their cultural environment dictates. We are not left feeling the female characters have been transported to colonial plantations straight from a seminar at Berkeley. With the exception of the occasional Disneyesque overacting of a few extremely young actors, the cast feels genuinely of the times and places where the ROOTS story unfolds.

While we’re on the subject, I’m glad that most of the actors are relatively unknown, so that the story feels more genuine as opposed to the “star-studded” casting of the previous version. 1977’s miniseries of course starred the unforgettable and, at the time, unknown LeVar Burton as young Kunta. Burton’s portrayal was so compelling it may have worked against him ever since, being typecast to the point that he had to get creative with other projects to live it down. But the 1977 version made the mistake of leaning on celebrity. Perhaps it was necessary to draw in viewers during a time when segregation and bussing were still fresh in our minds and precious few black performers were given any semblance of respect. But the casting that first time around was loud and disjointed. It featured not one or two, but numerous well-known actors from 60s and 70s tv shows. Robert Reed and Ed Asner, Moses Gunn, Lorne Greene, Esther Rolle, as well as OJ Simpson, Cicely Tyson, Sandy Duncan…the “celebrity” element in the original always felt like a huge distraction and undermined the gravity of the story. It’s hard to relate to Lou Grant as serial rapist slaver captain, or pixie-cut Sandy Duncan looking like Peter Pan in panniers. Thank goodness this time the cast are fresh and strong and ego-free. Further, a good deal of the once-rampant historical mythology of American slavery has since been rectified; some very questionable “scholarship” made more than one appearance in the first attempt at ROOTS as cinema.

My personal copy of Alex Haley’s ROOTS: The Saga of an American Family. Melanie C. Stringer photo.

That is not to say there aren’t problems with the new version. However, they (so far) tend to be somewhat minor:

Some scenes seem to be invented for this version, although they still fit with the storyline, so that may not really be a problem. I read the novel, and the differences don’t seem to have interfered much with the heart of the story or the characters (remembering that the novel itself is heavily-researched but still historical fiction).

Some of the actors, especially the younger or tertiary players are occasionally too modern in their posturing. “Missy” stands out as very unconvincing and entirely a product of the 21st century. Overall, the dialogue is good but includes a few anachronistic expressions (notably: “Are you okay?” and “I got this.”) which I took to be ad libs by actors caught up in the action of some very tense and charged scenes. The costumes are decent but not without some glaring fit problems on gentry and especially on “Mrs. Waller.” There’s a scandalous lack of petticoats on wealthy, otherwise well-dressed women. I spotted some drawers on little girls long before they were commonly worn. While the cinematography is stunning, it’s pretty obvious that they filmed far from the initial 18th century American setting in Virginia; credits indicate Louisiana and it shows prominently in the landscape of swamps and cypress that look more Bayou than Tidewater. 

These problematic details are triumphantly overshadowed by the key actors, all of whom are consistently outstanding. I am particularly impressed by everyone in the Kinte family; the casting was superb, and Malachi Kirby’s face alone tells the entire story. Indeed, his physicality is so engrossing, so convincing, so utterly in the moment at all times, that the viewer is liable to believe he IS Kunta Kinte, and not just a highly-skilled, extraordinarily gifted actor. It is safe to say one might watch the entire first two episodes with the sound muted and still feel every nuance of Kunta’s experience.

The Boston Globe ran a quick piece on ROOTS this week, and Globe staff writer Matthew Gilbert and I clearly agree on the caliber of acting:

“As Kunta Kinte, Malachi Kirby projects both intelligence and naivete, the latter as he asks “Why don’t they run?” upon seeing slaves in the fields for the first time. His performance, as he maintains the body language and speaking patterns of Kunta’s African youth, is strong enough to hover over the entire miniseries, even though he’s only in the first two parts.”

(Full story here

https://www.bostonglobe.com/arts/2016/05/30/newcomers-give-roots-strength/zFdK0G5yrORilvqv4iguZJ/story.html

The rest of the primary cast in the first half–Omoro and Binta, Belle, Fiddler (hey, Forest Whitaker, I almost forgot that’s you playing him!) and teenaged Kizzy–are all fantastic. Kunta’s parents, Omoro and Binta, exude love and a hopeful yet strict and protective relationship with each other and their son. Fiddler’s resolve, and paternal, almost reflexive guidance of the “ornery Mandinka” evolves into a loyalty unmatched by any other. Belle’s steady but firm demeanor with the ungrateful invalid Kunta is impressively gentle as she stands her ground but does not relinquish her sense of duty and, later, love. Kizzy is her Fa’s daughter, and the viewer knows it. I see numerous well-deserved awards and powerful leading roles in the near future for these fine talents. 

The more I ponder the question, however, the more I come back to this: 

Damn! It is really, really well done! 

You see, I’m a skeptic with a long history of finding major flaws with a lot of historical fiction. I’m the gal who needs to read the book before watching the movie, every time. It’s just a RULE of mine. And, very often, historical fiction is poorly-researched and dwells too much in the land of the time it was written rather than the era it is alleged to portray. Yep, I’m THAT person. It’s hard to please me when it comes to mixing my two favorite things–history and literature–and I say this, knowing full well how that must sound to anyone who knows that I’m a historian who travels the US presenting educational living history in the persona of one of our country’s best-known authors of historical fiction, Laura Ingalls Wilder. 

But I digress.

I watched the first episode three times in immediate succession to make certain I absorbed every moment as thoroughly as possible, and couldn’t find a hitch. Rather, I kept finding more details that served to enrich the storytelling. While the second installment had some jarring modernities, it still held well for the most part. Caveat: what is UP with that tune playing at Kunta and Belle’s wedding, anyway? Far too 21st century-pop-song-with-a-tempo-change for my taste. Worse, it took away from the authenticity of the scene, serving to make Kunta’s objection to broom jumping sound like a PSA instead of a natural reaction to a phony “tradition.”
But, if that’s the worst I can find in the first four hours of this labor of love, then all signs point to the next four being more than worth the wait.

In case it wasn’t clear, I’m looking forward to the next two installments. How about you?

‘Farmer Boy’ site earns Literary Landmark™ designation

It is official! The Almanzo Wilder Farm, birthplace of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s real-life Farmer Boy (and husband of 64 years), Almanzo James Wilder, is now designated as a Literary Landmark. The honor will be commemorated this summer at a special ceremony, Saturday, 11 July 2015. Special guest, and reknown Wilder biographer/historian William Anderson will be in attendance. Read more here:

Adirondack North Country Blogger

The apple trees were in full bloom last May. They may be a little late this year. Photo by Connie Jenkins The apple trees were in full bloom last May. They may be a little late this year. Photo by Connie Jenkins

Here’s some great news about one of my favorites places: Wilder Homestead in Burke, N.Y., just outside of Malone.

When Wilder Homestead, the childhood home of Almanzo Wilder, opens for the season on May 23,  it will begin a new chapter of activity, connections, and very special recognition as a Literary Landmark™ – the only of all “Little House” sites to earn this designation. A ceremony is in the works for Saturday, July 11.

Thousands of people from around the world flock to this site in northern Franklin County each year to get a glimpse of rural life in the 1860s as well as to follow in young Almanzo’s steps. Laura Ingalls Wilder told the story of her husband’s childhood in the beloved children’s book “Farmer Boy,” the second in the…

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“Be a Decent Human Being.”

Rex Huppke has an excellent weekly column at the Chicago Tribune. I read it yesterday, as I do every Monday. I’ve been reading it since it began a few years back, and his words never fail to resonate. After over two decades of working with the public, and often in large corporate-structure retail-and-service-industry positions, most of which had far more in common politically with the dreaded Dilbert-style cubicle farm than many of you may realize, I can tell you quite frankly that Rex knows of what he speaks. People need to be treated like, well, people. If more bosses/managers/supervisors took his theories to heart, a lot more people would love their jobs. 

And it is SO SIMPLE. 

Rex’s philosophy, in 5 words? “Be a Decent Human Being.” His column, I Just Work Here, focuses upon best strategies to navigate all manner of workplace interactions, and his advice has this nifty feature wherein it always translates well to everyday life. Rex offers a self-deprecating sense of humor which alternates with self-aggrandizement, tongue squarely planted in cheek.

This deft combination makes me grin with each new installment; I honestly look forward to reading his take on whatever aspect of workplace politics or “can you believe there are still people who need to be told this?” which he elects to discuss in a given week. And, while he certainly has no idea who I am, his column has become such a fixture of my routine that I feel confident in declaring he’s not some self-absorbed business guru with a byline, but, rather, the 21st century counterpart to another favorite writer of mine: Laura Ingalls Wilder. And because of that, it seems perfectly logical that I think of him as some long-lost college buddy from that class that time, who I haven’t talked to in ages but would seek out at the reunion if I even bothered to go. My buddy Rex, you remember… 

Wait, what? What does this MBA-type business column guy have to do with…did you say, Laura Ingalls Wilder? 

Yes. Yes I did.

What does my imaginary buddy Rex have to do with Laura, you say? Well, nothing. And, everything.

You see, Rex Huppke is the kind of writer who talks to his readers like, well, people. And he relates to them in everyday terms, discussing everyday issues, with honesty, humor, and solid intentions to make a positive impact on the lives of those people. As someone who has spent a good three quarters of her life learning anything and everything I can find about the multi-faceted Mrs. Wilder, to the point where I now spend much of my professional life in a newish-to-me career presenting educational first-person interpretation programs as the author whose friends knew her as Bessie, I am of the conviction that she–Laura– did much the same in her own work, nay, in her life, as the humble Rex does today.  

How so, you say? Let’s see…

Laura took bad situations and turned them into experiences, learning what she could and striving for better. She did a lot of tough, down-in-the-trenches work. She knew better than to count her chickens or rest on her laurels, even if she did occasionally express herself in cliché. She did her best to help, and to inspire, others. Whether writing a poultry column for the St. Louis Star, or penning a quick note home to her beloved Manly, describing the wonders she witnessed at the Panama-Pacific International Exposition while visiting with their daughter, the up-and-coming Rose Wilder Lane, Laura had meaningful thoughts to share, and was known to share freely when she felt it mattered. Laura took education seriously, so much so that she sometimes sounded apologetic for never having been “graduated from anything.” Yet, she was so self-educated that she became known locally as an active clubwoman who read voraciously and encouraged her neighbors to share their intellectual persuits in the Eastern Star, the Athenians, and “Justamere” Club. On a regional level, her farm columns for the Missouri Ruralist offered tips on progressive farming and housekeeping as well as underscoring civic duty and fostering tolerance of one’s adversaries. Eventually, her mildly fictionalized series of children’s books became a fixture in homes and classrooms across the country–and are translated and enjoyed in dozens of languages around the world.

But all of this homespun goodness can be boiled down to a pretty simple philosophy and approach to one’s inner life and outer responsibilities. Do your work, but find joy in simple pleasures. Do everything to the best of your ability, but don’t be afraid of failure. Stand up for what you think is right, but allow yourself to feel empathy for others, even if you disagree. In short, Rex and Laura offer the same message, albeit in different contexts and different centuries: Be a Decent Human Being. And any person with a philosophy like that is well worth knowing. Or, at least, admiring publicly for a moment.

Find Rex Huppke’s work here:

http://www.chicagotribune.com/business/chinews-ask-rex-huppke-i-just-work-20130507-staff.html

https://www.facebook.com/RexWorksHere

Twitter: @RexWorksHere

 

A Puritan Hero

Just discovered this blog, courtesy of a share by my friend and Alcott scholar, Kristi Martin, who brought Amy Belding Brown to my attention with this link. Kristi and I both work in Concord and greatly admire what is known as Orchard House, the home built by the subject of this piece, John Hoar, and which would later be home to Louisa May Alcott as she penned Little Women.

I love antique houses, women’s history, and stories of rebellious colonists of New England in the days before notions of antidisestablishmentarianism took hold. This one combines them all!

Collisions

Orchard House snowAbout a decade ago, I worked for a few years at the Orchard House Museum in Concord, Massachusetts.  Best known as the home of Louisa May Alcott and the place where she wrote the classic novel, Little Women, the house has an impressive history of its own.  When I was there the 300-year-old building, renovated by Bronson Alcott in the 1850’s, was in the midst of a massive preservation project, so I had the opportunity to see, up-close, some of the details of the colonial construction.  Ever since, I’ve been fascinated not just by how historical houses are decorated, but how they’re constructed.

At that time, I was finishing work on my novel, Mr. Emerson’s Wife, about the Transcendental circle in19th century Concord.  Little did I know that a few years later, I’d encounter the house again, as I researched a 17th-century Concord lawyer for my new novel,

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